Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Dinner
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
attacked here
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
All Better!!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Political Monkey Mind
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
(Keep Mouth Shut!)
Friday, September 12, 2008
Stung!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Mr. McCain
Monday, September 1, 2008
Change Family
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
I used to write a poem . . .
I used to write a poem,
everyday.
I'd get up early
and look out at an oak tree
that wouldn't
give up its leaves.
The tree was waiting for spring,
like a woman hanging
onto a boyfriend or husband
until a better catch
came along.
Each day these leaves
would say something to me.
Each day, that is,
until I took a poetry
workshop with a famous poet.
I discovered that
cliches should not be
used, and each line
should end in an . . .
important word,
and (for G_d's sake)
certain subject matter,
like leaves, are passé.
I stopped writing poems,
right then, thinking that
there was only one
way to do it, and if
I wasn't obeying
the rules, I might
as well draw pictures . . .
everyday.
I'd get up early
and look out at an oak tree
that wouldn't
give up its leaves.
The tree was waiting for spring,
like a woman hanging
onto a boyfriend or husband
until a better catch
came along.
Each day these leaves
would say something to me.
Each day, that is,
until I took a poetry
workshop with a famous poet.
I discovered that
cliches should not be
used, and each line
should end in an . . .
important word,
and (for G_d's sake)
certain subject matter,
like leaves, are passé.
I stopped writing poems,
right then, thinking that
there was only one
way to do it, and if
I wasn't obeying
the rules, I might
as well draw pictures . . .
Friday, August 29, 2008
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Reflections on Talks on Buddha's Lists
During a recent Appamada Intensive our students gave talks on Buddha's lists. Here are my reflections on their talks.
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Rhinoceros Fan (an infamous koan) One day Yanguan called to his attendant, "Bring me the rhinoceros fan." The attendant said, ...